


What Have I Done This Time?

by mistysinkat



Series: Prompts and Drabbles [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullistair, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:30:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4197405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistysinkat/pseuds/mistysinkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Description: SPOILER ALERT! After Hawke sacrifices herself so that the Inquisitor and Alistair could live, Cullen hears about Alistair’s offer to stay behind instead. He is not entirely pleased with the Warden’s offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Have I Done This Time?

He could  _feel_  the fury rolling off the commander, even from clear across Adamant’s demolished courtyard. The way the man stood with his arms crossed, the way his furrowed brows cut deep grooves into his forehead, the way he paced in perfectly straight lines with hammering, staccato steps - every single movement Cullen made told the story of his anger.

An anger that Alistair knew was somehow directed at him.

“It’s always me,” he groaned, “Andraste’s ass, what have I done this time?!”

The Gray Warden winced as he made his way slowly toward the Commander, trying his best to stand up straight and suppress a limp.  

_I swear by the Maker, all I ever seem to do is piss this man off,_  Alistair thought as he grit his teeth against the pain shooting up his leg.  _They say there’s a fine line between love - or whatever this is between us - and hate, but this is ridiculous._

“Alistair. A word, if you’d be so kind,” the commander hissed through clenched teeth when he finally spotted the warden.

_Oh shit. He’s not pissed. He’s furious._

They walked in silence. Alistair followed behind Cullen, watching the way he moved. The man was stiff, his walk choppy and rough where it was usually slow and smooth.

_This… is going to be bad._ Alistair groaned internally. Cullen stopped abruptly and turned on his heels.  

“Have you lost your Maker-damned mind, Alistair? What were you thinking… or did you think at all? Are you literally incapable of logic and reason?!” The force of Cullen’s anger was disarming.

Alistair took a shaky step backwards before gathering his face into a sardonic smile.

“Nice to see you, too, honey. How’s your day been?”

“Don’t you dare make a joke of this. You were going to sacrifice.…”

“Oh, my day? Well, my day has been just swell, dear…”

“I’m warning you, Alistair…”

“I mean, other than fighting hordes of demons in the Fade to save YOUR HIDES, that is.”

“Can you not take a single thing seriously?”

“Oh, and leaving a friend behind, probably to be killed by a giant fucking spider, all so we could live. That was the very best part!”

“ALISTAIR! STOP!”

The warden’s mouth closed with a snap as he watched the anger fade from Cullen’s face, replaced by a curious expression Alistair couldn’t quite discern. It was somewhere between exhaustion and anxiety, frustration and concern.

The commander took a deep breath as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. He avoided Alistair’s eyes, his gaze fixed instead on the western sky. The setting sun outlined his features in fire as the two men stood in silence.

“You offered to stay behind. You don’t have to play the hero all the time,” Cullen finally managed. His voice was even and controlled, but Alistair could still hear the storm threatening in the undertones.

“I wasn’t playing the hero. I meant what I said back there. The wardens started it, and a warden should have finished it…”

“Nonsense. Why are you always the first to charge in? Why are you always so reckless?”

“I’m not reckless.”

“Bullshit… and you know it!”

“I’m not. Being a Gray Warden carries certain occupational hazards…”

“Indeed, which you seem to invite.”

“Why are you so angry? You’d have done the exact same thing if you were in my boots. Can you honestly say you’d feel good leaving Hawke behind?” Alistair’s voice rose as his anger was finally peaked, “Would you have leapt at the idea of allowing yet another hero to sacrifice themselves for you? Another friend… dead so you could live?”

Alistair’s voice broke in a choked sob. It still hurt to think about what happened ten years ago in Denerim. He knew it should have been him. He was the one closest to the archdemon when it was time to strike the killing blow. He should have died.

Instead, he was pushed aside by one of the truest and best friends he’d ever known as she drove her sword into the beast’s heart instead.

_What have you done for us lately, Alistair?_

“What have I done for the people of Ferelden lately?” Alistair snorted as he felt hot tears threatening to fall, “Well, I’ve managed to kill off another of their brightest heroes so I could continue this sorry existence, haven’t I?”

The gray warden hung his head, glowering at the ground as his face burned with disappointment and anger. Lost in thought, he didn’t hear Cullen approach.  

The hands that cupped his face were gentle, all traces of the man’s previous rage had simply vanished. Alistair allowed those hands to raise his chin. He didn’t look away when those piercing golden eyes of Cullen’s locked on his own.

Now that the commander’s anger had completely boiled away, all that was left was worry and exhaustion, twisting into one another as his eyes looked at Alistair pleadingly.

_Maker, this is what I put him through._ Alistair thought as he felt a tear finally spill over his eyelashes and make its way down his cheek.

Cullen’s thumb softly stroked the tear away as he took a ragged breath.

“It’s not sorry. Your existence. To me, it is the… most important… the very best thing there is in this forsaken world… if you hadn’t returned…” Cullen stumbled over the words, but pressed on, “Maker, how can I tell you? How can I make you understand? There are no words.”

The commander stroked Alistair’s hair, tucking a few loose strands behind his ear with a sad little smile.  

“There are no words except… I love you.”  

Cullen’s eyes, his soft touch, his words. They were breaking Alistair’s heart and putting it back together again all at the same time. It was agony to finally see all the love behind those honey eyes and recognize it for what it was… but it was impossible to look away.  

It was impossible not to finally admit it himself.

“Maker help me, I love you, too,” Alistair breathed out. His eyes widened as a weight he didn’t even know he was carrying lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in a very long while, he felt his heart opening up as the commander’s strong arms wrapped around him. He felt it soar when those scarred lips pressed against his own.

The world was ending. Demons were everywhere. Darkspawn had been sighted around Ferelden. The Calling was singing in Alistair’s head even now. Who knew what tomorrow would bring… but right now, in this one moment, he was loved and warm and safe and  _worthy_.

And that was enough.


End file.
